The sets were huge. Amy could
tell immediately that the movie must have been on the scale of Gone With
the Wind or Titanic.
Several lots specifically set aside for special effects had hinted
at that. When she’d received
a copy of the shooting schedule, she’d seen even more
proof. Special effects and
cinematics were going to carry the
movie.
Amy stopped and turned a full circle as she took in the sights of cables,
lights, scaffolds, cameras, people, sets, and so many other
things. “Oh my,” she
whispered under her breath. And
she felt that was an
understatement.
“This is Mark. He will
be playing the role of
‘Cloud’. You’ll
be doing most of your scenes with
him.”
Amy flushed and hurried to catch up with the
director. She came up to a man
with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an athletic
build. She smiled and extended
a hand. “How do you
do? My name’s Amy
Burke. Nice to meet
you.”
“Mark Frasier.
Hi.” He looked to
the director. “And we’ve
got to do something about that name.
‘Cloud’?
You’ve got to be shitting
me.”
The director ignored him.
“You’ll meet ‘Tifa’
later. Her role will be played
by Vanessa
Heron.”
Amy’s eyes widened as she looked to the
director. “The Vanessa
Heron? From Phantom of the
Opera and Les
Miserables?”
Mark chuckled and put a fist on his hip.
“Hey. Where’s
my wide-eyed look of
wonder?”
The director laughed. “You
think your action flicks’ll rate you one of
those?” The director shook
his head. “Come on, Miss
Burke-- Oh, never mind. Here
comes
Harrison.”
Amy turned. Sir Garret
Harrison’s stunning good looks were hardened with an intense expression,
and his blue eyes were angry and
annoyed.
“Is he always in a bad mood?” Mark
asked.
“Only recently,” the director
muttered. “A
woman.”
“Ah.”
Amy took a slight step forward. “Good morning, sir,” she said with a genuine
smile.
Mr. Harrison halted and faced Amy.
“Miss Burke, it isn’t necessary for you to bow, scrape,
and smile. You have the
role. Now do your best in the
performance of
it.”
Amy’s smile vanished as she blinked in
shock. Before she could say
anything, Mr. Harrison moved forward to stand opposite Mark and the
director. “Where is
Vanessa?”
“She had issues with her wardrobe and went to take it up
with--”
“Blast,” he hissed.
“Am I to be surrounded by amateurs and infantile prima
donna’s?”
The director’s face hardened. “Harrison, don’t be a damn
ass. We’ve got a hell of
a good cast here, even with your questionable contribution of Miss
Burke. The last thing we need
is your attitude. Suck it
up.”
Mr. Harrison said nothing in response to
that. He only turned and addressed
Mark and Amy. “As you may
or may not realize, my name is Garret
Harrison. I am both the Executive
Producer and the character named
Sephiroth. I do not answer to ‘Lord’, ‘Sir
Harrison’, ‘dude’, ‘boss-man’, or any variations
of the kind. You will either
call me ‘sir’ or ‘Garret’ or ‘Mr. Harrison’
or simply ‘Harrison’.”
He sent Amy and Mark both an intense
frown. “I have certain
expectations of my cast and crew, and they are as follows: 1) No parties
on days of or days before your scenes are scheduled to shoot; 2) No fraternizing
outside rehearsals of scenes; 3) No drugs, alcohol, or other substances allowed
on premises or near your person during the shooting
schedule. If you are even suspected,
you will be dismissed and a replacement found; 4) No tardy arrivals and no
missed days. If you are scheduled,
you are here; 5) Scripts will be memorized when shooting
commences.
Understood?
Good. Then we will see
you bright and early in two
weeks.”
He turned to go. Amy followed
after him. “Mr.
Harrison?”
Mr. Harrison sent an annoyed frown her
direction. “What is
it?”
“I hoped I could meet with you regarding my
role.”
He halted and fully faced her. “The interpretation of the role, Miss Burke, is your
responsibility.”
Amy nodded. “I realize
that, but you’ve so much more experience on
stage. I hoped you could let
me know if what I’m wanting to portray is coming
across.”
He regarded her with what Amy could only call
suspicion. Before she had a
chance to say anything, he ‘put her in her
place’. “Miss Burke,
as I told you before, I will not tolerate obvious attempts to gain my
favor. They only irritate
me.”
“I’m not,” Amy
protested.
But he’d turned to stride from the
building. Amy frowned and put
her hands on her hips. Then
she smiled and gave a shake of her head.
I suppose it did come across a little more pathetic than I
wanted. I’ll have to work
on that. And Amy decided
to consider their conversation Lesson number
one.
“Miss Burke? Shall
we?”
Amy turned back to the two men and sent them an apologetic smile as she
approached. “I’m
sorry.” She motioned over
her shoulder. “I suppose
I deserved that. I always come
across as a brown-noser. I
don’t mean
to.”
Mark laughed as he and the director walked on either side of
Amy. The director sent Amy a
reassuring smile, brief as it was.
“If you have any questions about anything, Miss Burke, I would
suggest you don’t go to Mr. Harrison
directly. He doesn’t have
the
patience.”
Mark gave her arm a nudge. Amy changed her focus to the young man with the pretty
blue eyes. “I’ll help
with your lines and stuff.
I’ve been in loads of
movies.”
“Mark,” the director
warned.
“Thank you,” Amy told him, “but I’m sure I’ll be
okay.”
Mark shrugged with a slight smirk as he looked
away. “Just wanted to
help.”
The director scoffed. Amy hid
a smile with a clearing of her throat. “And I appreciate it,” she said, serious enough
to be truthful. “But I
think I’ve been in enough off-Broadway performances to get the job done
well
enough.”
“Off-Broadway, huh?” Mark asked as he examined her
profile.
“Hmm. I did commercials
for condoms and cereal before landing my first big
break.”
Amy laughed. “What a
combination!”
Mark chuckled.
“Yeah. Tell me about
it.” He glanced back over
at her. “This is supposed
to be one of the best movies of the
year. What are you going to
do with your fame and
fortune?”
Amy continued to smile.
“Fame and fortune is
overrated. I’m going to
go back
home.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “And
do
what?”
“Teach drama at the local
highschool.”
“Hmm. Sounds…
fun.”
Amy chuckled. “For me,
yes. For
you? Not so
much.”
Mark smiled. “I think you
and me are going to get along great,
Amy.”
The director rolled his eyes. “Since when did you and a skirt not get along
great?”
Amy laughed. Mark
smirked. The director shook
his head.
*
Amy adjusted her hold on the bulky script as she attempted to turn the
page. She looked at her watch
in between juggles and moaned. The
bus was late. I’m going
to miss the transfer, and then I’ll have to
walk. Amy sighed with a slight shrug of her
shoulders. Oh
well. More time to read and
study. She didn’t have
that many lines to memorize, but there was one scene that had her very
nervous.
There was a honk. Amy looked
up. “Hi, Mark,” she
said with a slight
smile.
“So you’re what a public trans person looks like,” he said
with a charming smile as he draped his arm across the back of the Corvette
seat. “I always
wondered.”
Amy’s lips twitched.
“Nothing glamorous, I hate to
say. Just normal people who
don’t like hassling with
traffic.”
“But that’s the best
part.”
Amy chuckled. “Help
yourself.”
Mark’s lips lifted upward in a slight
smirk. “So can I offer
you a
ride?”
“That’s all right.”
She lifted up the script.
“I’m using the time to
study.”
Mark laughed. “You
are a brown-noser, aren’t
you?”
“No. I just like knowing
my lines before hand. A good
habit, I
say.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about good
habits.” Mark checked the
traffic in his rearview mirror.
“Are you sure you don’t want a
ride? One last
chance.”
“Positive. Thanks for asking,
but I’ll take the
bus.”
“Suit yourself. See ya
later.” He gave a wave
moments before peeling
away.
Amy changed her focus back to the
script. She stopped reading
when a shadow fell over the words.
“You’re blocking my
light.”
The shadow moved. “Miss
Burke, what are you
doing?”
Amy blinked and looked up. She smiled.
“Hello, Mr. Harrison.”
He didn’t return the greeting, and the stern expression on his
aristocratic face didn’t lessen.
Amy let it slide without a feather
ruffled. Instead, she gestured
to the post that said ‘bus
stop’. “I’m studying
while waiting for my ride.”
Amy motioned to the space on the bench beside
her. “There’s plenty
of room if you care to have a
seat.”
“No. Thank
you.” He studied
her. Amy didn’t look
away. “Do you not have
an
auto?”
“Oh sure I do,” she said as she closed the
script. “I just don’t
like fighting with traffic and getting yelled at and cursed at and flipped
off.” Amy shook her head with a continual
smile. “Too much stress
in daily life as it is. I take
the bus and use the time to read, or write letters to my family, or just
enjoy the
peace.”
“I see.” Mr. Harrison
looked away as he adjusted his beige, calf-hide trenchcoat over his
arm. A moment later an attendant
of the studios drove up in a crème-colored antique
roadster.
Amy whistled.
“Lovely. I bet she
drives wonderfully
smooth.”
“I seldom have the opportunity to drive her beyond 10 miles per hour,
but she handles nicely
enough.”
Amy arched an eyebrow at the surprisingly civil conversation they
shared. She decided to continue
as much as possible. “My
dad had one similar, but I think his was
American. Yours is English,
right?”
Mr. Harrison raised his gaze from his trenchcoat and moved it to
hers.
“Correct.”
Amy nodded. “A lot of
difference. American roadsters
have their pluses, but those English
ones…” Amy shook her
head. “Pieces of
art.”
Mr. Harrison’s eyebrow twitched as he accepted the keys from the
attendant. “Thank
you.” He changed his attention
back to Amy, regarding her as he seemed to debate with himself a
possibility.
Amy changed her gaze to her lap and opened her script again, not wanting
him to feel obligated when she would have been happy either riding the bus
or in his lovely roadster.
“Have fun on your drive, Mr.
Harrison. Hopefully traffic
isn’t too
bad.”
He remained silent for a moment more before moving toward his roadster with
a civil “Good day, Miss
Burke.”
Amy watched him out of the corner of her eye until he drove
away. Then she lifted her head
with a slight smile as she watched the car fade into the
traffic. “Good day, Mr.
Harrison.”
*